


Between Bars

by AmberStories



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: 3x18, Angst, Angst and Porn, Light Bondage, M/M, all of the feels, because someone needed to write this, cage sex, somewhat dubious consent, through bars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 11:52:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10943934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberStories/pseuds/AmberStories
Summary: A possible continuation to the prison scene in s3 e18. This started out as being about their feelings, but things got a bit out of hand...





	Between Bars

**Author's Note:**

> I swear there originally was not supposed to be any porn in this, ok? But then I figured there were already enough stories about Ed and Os talking shit out and not nearly enough about cage sex... so there you go.

Hands tightly wrapped around the bars separating them, face only inches from his own, Oswald’s eyes were glaring at him, unblinking, in what could only be described as pure hatred. In the silence of their cells, Ed could hear Oswald’s breath coming in and out of his lungs, slow prolonged inhales and exhales, possibly trying to contain the emotions that must have gone through his head.

Oswald was breathing. Right in front of him. He was alive and staring right through him.

Despite having said those words out loud he still could not believe what was in front of him. Could this be… no, it was different from his hallucinations. It was real, far too real.

Then emotion hit him all at once, and he could not help but take a couple steps backward. At first it was fear. Irrational fear, of course. There was nothing Oswald could do to him through those bars, right? Yet while he repeated that to himself, his eyes could not leave Oswald’s glare for even one second, knowing full well what that look typically led to. He had seen it on Oswald’s face on those occasions when some unlucky soul had tested Oswald’s patience, just to be slaughtered in a fit of rage. Now that glare was directed towards him, and he was sure that had it not been for the bars, he likely would have been reduced to a pulp by now. How could he not be scared?

Yet as his heart beat faster than he would have liked to, he realized a part of him was also immensely relieved. Every single time he had hallucinated him, every single time he gulped down those pills, he had wished, even for a fraction of a second, that it could really reverse his actions… and now…

_Snap out of it!_

What was he thinking? He was The Riddler now, he had finally realized his true self, precisely because he had overcome his weakness. Precisely because he had been able to kill Oswald in cold blood, and get over it. So why did he feel… happy?

 

***

 

Anger. Pure anger was what passed through Oswald’s head as he gripped the bars with all his force, wishing they had been grabbing Ed’s neck instead.

When anger hit him, there was no going back. Oswald had dealt with that since childhood. No matter the consequences, anger would take over his body and mind until quelled by violence. And typically, nothing stood in its way. Which is why he now squeezed those bars as if he could melt them away in his hands.

There were no words that could express what he felt. Typically he would mock his victims before releasing his anger on them, making them regret whatever they had done to deserve this. But this was different. It was a betrayal on an entirely different level. It was worse than Gabe’s. First, because of how elaborate it had been; fully in his style, Nygma had managed to destroy everything that Oswald cared about with calculative precision. Secondly, because of how strong the bond between them had been – or had seemed to be, at least.

Memories of those days flashed before him and he wanted to scream, yell his rage out of his body, crash it over Nygma. But no words came out of his quivering lips, and all he could do was keep his glossy eyes fixed on his target.

 

***

 

Ed had no idea how much time had passed, but Oswald had not shifted his position or stopped staring. His initially wild expression had been replaced by a quiet, accusatory glare. Those cold, murderous eyes were almost more unsettling than before.

Ed had not found any way to break the silence, so he had decided to sit down and pretend to ignore his former friend. What was he supposed to do? Apologize? Ridiculous. Even if his pride had allowed that, he doubted it would satisfy Oswald. Besides, Oswald had killed Isabella in the first place, and his revenge was just… so why did he feel guilty? He pressed two fingers to his forehead, trying to clear his thoughts.

_Think rationally._

Suddenly the realization of his current situation hit him. The fact that Oswald was alive had led him to momentarily forget what the real threat was at the moment: the Court, and what they planned to do with them. He mentally kicked himself (for about the hundredth time) for falling right into Jim’s trick… Right, the fact that Oswald was still glaring at him should be of no concern right now. He should be thinking of a way to escape instead…

He thought, as he nervously peaked at Oswald through the corner of his eye.

This was just plainly distracting. He inhaled deeply before standing up and turning to Oswald resolutely. He hated it, but this had to be dealt with if he was going to make it out of there alive.

“Oswald, I – “

The words froze in mid-air and to his utter dismay, he was unable to finish the sentence. Oswald’s stare had not faltered, but it had changed in character once again. What stood in front of him was now the mask of bitter resignation. Oswald’s hands no longer gripped the bars separating them like his life depended on it, but rather hung down, defeated. It first surprised Ed, left him speechless, then confused, again…

“I – uhm, I’m sorry…”

No, that’s not what he had meant to say at all! He clenched his jaw and furrowed his eyebrows, trying to think straight.

Suddenly, the image of Oswald singing in a top hat flashed before his eyes. Why that image? Ed blinked several times, yet he could not get the memory out of his head. That’s it, his mind was not working properly because he had not eaten anything in who knows how long. He had been in that cell for quite a while before Oswald’s arrival, with no explanation on the part of the Court, and all he had received thus far was putrid water. No wonder his limbs felt weak and his mind wandered in all sorts of directions…

Then Oswald’s eyes lowered for the first time and Ed was not sure he could handle seeing his former mentor so utterly defeated. Had it been his words? His mind raced to think of something – anything – to break the silence. Yet no words came to him again, and instead he felt his body being pulled towards Oswald by an invisible force. Before he could stop himself, his hands cupped his friend’s face, bringing it closer to his own. He closed his eyes and Oswald was still there, but dressed in a tuxedo and bathed in warm red light. He felt a small jolt of surprise through his hands as his lips met with Oswald’s – the real one? He wasn’t sure.

 

***

 

Ed’s words had resonated in his head like a bell and unresolved anger had suddenly given way to deep sadness. Of all things, he had not expected Ed to apologize. After everything that had been said and done, he expected his hate to be reciprocal. So when hit by those words, his resolve had suddenly melted away and he started questioning his own actions. Of course, he had regretted killing Isabella countless times, not because he thought the action was wrong per se, but because of what it had led to. Now, however, true guilt started to make its way to his heart. Could forgiveness really be the way? He only had to find the courage to say those same words he had just heard, had to find a way to express…

_I can’t._

He realized, lowering his gaze.

He was still lost in his own thoughts when cold hands gripped his face and his unprepared lips were pressed in a hard kiss. A kiss he used to dream about – but now? What did this mean?

From the bottom of his gut, all of the rage from earlier came back at once. Grabbing Nygma by the front of his jumpsuit, he pulled him away from himself, while keeping his face inches from his own.

“How dare you mock my feelings! Did you think I would fall for your little tricks _again_? Are you not satisfied with what you’ve done already?”

Of course, why would he think Nygma’s words were true? Why would he ever trust him? For all he knew, this could all be part of the Court’s plans.

“No! That’s not – I – “

“Shut up!”

Bitter tears ran down his face as he tightened his grip on the fabric around Nygma’s neck. Unlike before, he now had him in his claws. What would he do to him? He was sure, now, that the Court was watching.

“Is this what you want to see? Is this why you put me in here?”

He yelled at the darkness surrounding their cage, before pulling Nygma’s face towards his own and returning the man’s kiss. But his kiss was an angry one, teeth digging into the flesh of Ed’s lips, and when he pushed him away again he could feel the taste of blood on his tongue.

The mix of panic and confusion on Nygma’s face meant nothing to him now, blinded as he was by rage once more. With no specific plan in mind, he grabbed Nygma by the shoulders and turned him around, then pulled his wrists high above his head and pinned them against one of the bars separating them.

He noticed with triumph that his victim was not fighting back. Even when, after the initial shock, Nygma’s arms tried to pull free from Oswald’s grip, they held no strength. He knew that typically, Nygma could have overpowered him in no time; yet he was not going to ask too many questions when such a prime opportunity for revenge presented itself.

“Keep watching, you sick bastards!”

No answer came in reply, but he _knew_ the Court had put them up to this. He _knew_ they had recruited Nygma just to manipulate Oswald into working for them, which is why he was going to turn the cards around and mock their efforts by doing things his way. Any moment now he expected a guard to come down there and stop him. When no-one came, he tightened his grip around Nygma’s wrists with his right hand while his left started to slowly undo the buttons of the horrendous jumpsuit protecting the other man’s body. How far would he have to push this to get a response from the Court?

 

***

 

“What are you thinking! The Court has nothing to do… what are you doing?!”

As soon as he had realized what absurd misconception was passing through Oswald’s mind, Ed had not stopped for even one second to yell in protest. Yet Oswald seemed to be completely deaf to his cries, focused solely on the foolish task of getting the Court’s attention. Which he suspected would fail miserably, as the Court had not seemed to be particularly involved with what had happened down there thus far.

He tried to break free of Oswald’s grasp on his wrists, just to discover that for all his efforts, he was unable to. When had Oswald become so strong? Perhaps the malnutrition had left Ed weaker than he thought.

Then Oswald started undoing the buttons of his jumpsuit, revealing his naked chest, and utter disbelief quickly gave way to panic when he realized Oswald’s hand did not plan on leaving much of his front unexposed. The line of buttons ran down his chest and stopped only inches away from his more vulnerable parts – which, he remembered, the Court had not graced with any protection other than the jumpsuit itself.

He could feel Oswald’s rugged breath close to his left ear, a hand now clawing at his chest, digging into his skin, leaving marks behind. Then two fingers trailed up to his right nipple and started playing with it, lightly at first, then pinching, sending waves of pain through his body and causing him to wrestle again, unsuccessfully. But then the touch turned soft once more and Ed bit his lip in anger, realizing how the sensations were causing his body to react. He could still taste blood from Oswald’s earlier kiss – if it could be called a kiss and not a bite, really. Somehow the taste of blood, the pain derived from both the injuries to his lips and the intermittent pinches to his nipple were all melting together with the strangely pleasant tingle that Oswald’s fingertips elicited when they ran over his flesh.

The assault on his nipple stopped and for a moment Ed thought Oswald had finally grasped that this was no way to get the Court’s attention. Instead, the hand that had been torturing him thus far slowly but surely made its way down his upper body, further and further, until finally wrapping itself around what he discovered in horror to be his own erect member.

 

***

 

What he found was surprising to say the least. Outraged at the thought of Nygma collaborating with the Court and going as low as to pretend to repent, Oswald had thought tormenting him this way would both mock their efforts and be fair retaliation. Yet… he did not expect Nygma to actually enjoy it. Did this mean Nygma felt something for him after all? Or was it purely a physical reaction?

Intent on finding out, he gave the taller man’s penis a couple of deliberately slow strokes, just to feel his body writhe under his touch. He pressed his own body against the back of Nygma’s, feeling his own growing erection press into the other man’s lower back. He continued stroking for a while, enjoying all the little sounds he was able to pull out of his nemesis’ lips.

A voice at the back of his head kept yelling that this was all horribly wrong, but he tried to ignore it, focusing on his actions instead. Using resentment as a shield against conscience, like he was used to. When he was satisfied with Nygma’s panting and squirming, he took a moment to assess the situation. This was all too good to be true: the man he once loved and craved for stood at his mercy in what – in his head – was an affront to his captors. The only problem being, of course, the fact that he was still caged and – more importantly – that a set of bars stood between the two men. If he wanted to bring this further, he would have to be ingenious…

A sudden idea led him to remove his left hand from its current task – not without eliciting, to his greatest satisfaction, a slight moan of protest from Nygma. His right hand had been gripping Nygma’s wrists this entire time and was starting to cramp. Holding one of the other man’s arms and then the other, he finished undressing his upper body by removing the sleeves. He then pulled Nygma’s arms up again and used the sleeves themselves to tie a knot around his wrists and one of the bars, effectively restricting them in their previous position. It helped that Nygma had seemed to stop struggling – in fact, it almost appeared like he was cooperating.

This turned out to be particularly convenient, as removing the lower part of the jumpsuit with its upper part being used to tie Nygma’s wrists was no easy task. It required a fair amount of leg bending and twisting and Oswald grinned as he realized his ministrations must have really incentivized his former friend. When the jumpsuit finally came off, he wrapped it up around Nygma’s tied wrists so it wouldn’t interfere with what he had in mind.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Nygma?”

Oswald scuffed as he heard no response and got a hold of the taller man’s face, twisting it so he could at least see his expression. Nygma kept his gaze lowered, but his face was burning hot and distorted by undeniable arousal. Satisfied with what he’d seen, Oswald continued with his plan.

 

***

 

The question had been far too direct to reply to, and in his current state of mind, Ed was not even sure what the answer was. At first he had legitimately attempted to fight against Oswald’s grip, but then something inside of him had switched without notice and he had felt compelled to give in. All this was wrong on so many levels – first of all, Oswald was probably still under some delusion regarding his involvement with the Court; secondly, the Court may had very well been watching at that moment. But truth is, he had never felt so aroused before. He tried to blame it on the malnutrition – his mind and body were merely playing tricks on him… Whatever the reason, he somehow didn’t want this to stop.

What he surely did not expect was for two fingers to be unceremoniously pushed into his mouth. He almost choked in surprise and tried to cough them out, but they left on their own after a few seconds.

“Oswald, wha–”

His question was cut short as he felt those same fingers – now covered in his own saliva – poking at his other entrance.

“Wait, I don’t… I’ve never…”

“I know.”

Oswald’s voice sounded strangely calm and comforting, especially after all the emotions he had seen his friend go through previously. Part of him wondered if this was still supposed to be Oswald’s revenge – he had called him “Nygma” and not “Ed”, after all. The other part just wanted to forget everything and go on with whatever this was. Yet when one finger and then the other slowly made their way inside, he could not repress a small cry of pain.

“Just relax…”

Easy to say, when you’re not the one being impaled while tied to a cage you’ve been imprisoned in for unknown reasons… He took a couple deep breaths and tried to push everything outside of his mind, everything except the sensation of Oswald’s fingers inside of him. Suddenly they curled in just the right way and his entire body was shaken by a sudden wave of pleasure. It was like nothing he had felt before. He heard himself letting out a long moan and could not believe it could get any better until the fingers curled up again, hitting that same spot, over and over.

The fingers left and he was about to protest, when he realized something else was going to replaced them. Oswald’s cock was considerably larger, so it took a while for it to fit all the way in. He mentally thanked Oswald for being gentle – strangely gentle, given this affair’s original purpose. Just as he had gotten adjusted to the new presence, Oswald started pushing it in and out, slowly at first and picking up a pace. Every thrust managed to hit him in that same spot the fingers had found, making him see stars.

“P-please, Oswald… untie my hands”

He wasn’t sure why he asked. Possibly because at this point, this felt less like punishment and more like a much delayed release of pent-up feelings and sexual tensions. He could not deny to himself anymore that this was what he had been waiting for, what his hallucinations had so clearly revealed already. If he were to accept this as fact, he wanted to prevent himself from being able to blame it on the restraints at a later time. He needed to let himself be fucked by Oswald entirely out of his own will, and enjoy it.

His cock still buried inside Ed, Oswald complied with Ed’s request, throwing away the jumpsuit. The pounding then resumed, and Ed grasped the bars behind to prevent his weakened body from collapsing.

The rhythm intensified and he felt Oswald’s hand wrap around his penis once again, each stroke adding to the sensations coming from inside of him. Then one particularly energetic thrust ended with what could only be described as a burst.

“Oh, Ed…”

Hearing his own name, combined with the still ongoing strokes against his length, led him over the edge as well in a matter of seconds. Hot liquid spurted out onto the dirty floor, and for a brief moment Ed felt nothing and knew nothing but deep, overwhelming pleasure.

It took all the energy he still possessed to wait for Oswald to pull out before letting his knees buckle and fall to the floor, back resting on the bars. He felt Oswald kneeling down behind him as well and soon his arms were hugging his body from behind, as much as the bars allowed.

After a long silence, during which he almost fell asleep, he heard Oswald’s small voice.

“Were you saying the truth?”

“You’re such an idiot Oswald… of course I was. I… I missed you.”

A few seconds passed before Oswald replied.

“Me too Ed… I’m sorry too. For what I did. And... for today.”

Ed let out a long sigh. It would take some time for him to truly forgive his friend, and he suspected the same was true for Oswald.

“Well. Let’s figure out how to get out of here, shall we?"

**Author's Note:**

> I was heavily inspired by [this](https://theshagshack.tumblr.com/post/160750453532/this-is-one-way-to-work-through-your-feelings-i) wonderful piece of work.


End file.
